by Tim Myers
Alex felt his theory fall apart. Could he have been wrong? No, it was the only way everything made sense.
“Sheriff, do me one more favor. Pull up Cliff’s ex-wife’s social security number and compare the two.”
“Alex, do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“I know I don’t have any right to ask, but would you do it for me?”
The sheriff sighed, then said, “Hang on, I’ve got to go back downstairs.”
The next time he came on the line, Armstrong said, “Son of a gun, how did you know?”
“Fiona said something about being at Denali, and one of Cliff’s photographs showed a sign for Mount McKinley in the background with a woman cut from the picture. They’re both the same place in Alaska, which is where the faked analysis came from.”
“She faked the first five numbers, but she used the right last four. That can’t be a coincidence. Now if we can just find her,” the sheriff said.
Alex saw the front door open and Fiona White walked I in. He said in a whisper, “She just walked into Hatteras West.”
“Alex, if you’re right, she’s already killed one man. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll get somebody out there fast.” Alex hung up the telephone and walked into the lobby to confront the murderer.
“Here are your muffins,” Fiona said as she handed the last basket to Elise. The Muffin Lady turned to Alex and said, “Now I want my check.”
Alex said, “I still have to cut it, we weren’t sure you’d show up.”
Elise looked surprised, but didn’t say anything. The Muffin Lady wasn’t pleased with his answer. “The second I get my money, I’m gone forever, you can bank on that.”
Alex glanced at the door, hoping to see one of Sheriff Armstrong’s deputies, but there was no one there. He wanted to confront her, but Alex couldn’t risk it. There were lives besides his own at stake. The most he could do was stall her long enough for them to capture her.
Blast it all, three guests were coming down the stairs for their breakfasts. Alex couldn’t afford to put them in jeopardy too, but he still had to stall if he could. :
“It’ll just take a second,” he said as he walked toward his office. Alex kept staring out the window, willing the sheriff’s deputy to come speeding up Point Road.
There must have been something about his expression because Fiona looked behind her, then said, “You know what? Forget it. You can mail it to me.”
“I’ll have it ready in a heartbeat,” Alex said. He couldn’t let her go. “Why don’t you come back with me to the office?” That would get her away from his guests, and more importantly, take Elise out of immediate danger.
“I can’t wait,” Fiona said, then hurried for the door. “Mail it to me.”
“Wait a second, Blanche.” Alex regretted the ploy of using her real name the second it parted his lips.
She hesitated, then said, “You’ve lost your mind. I’m getting out of here.” Then she ran out the front door.
“What was that all about?” Elise asked.
“Fiona White is Cliff’s ex-wife. She killed him and then stole the Carolina Rhapsody. I just hope she doesn’t get away.”
Alex said. “Elise, I can’t let her escape. I’m going after her.”
Alex found Fiona trying to start her car, frustrated by its failure to respond.
“Having some trouble?” he asked her.
Fiona replied by jutting a handgun out the window. “Give me the keys to your truck.”
“You can’t get away. The sheriff knows everything that happened. Give up.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “On second thought, I’ve got a better idea. You’re going to drive me. There’s nothing like a hostage to clear the way.”
She shoved the gun in Alex’s back after she got out of her car. “Don’t do anything stupid and you won’t get hurt.”
Alex was heading toward his truck, cursing himself for letting her snare him so easily, when he heard a voice behind him. “I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”
Skip was standing there in the open, a gun trained on Fiona’s back. As she whirled to face him, Alex dove behind his truck. He heard a pair of shots fired almost at the same time, and looked up quickly, not sure what he was going to find.
Fiona was on the ground clutching her leg, but she’d managed to hit Skip, as well. Though he stood his ground, there was blood seeping from his shoulder. Alex rushed to him, but he said, “Get her gun. I’m okay.”
Alex retrieved the weapon. Fiona, or Blanche, as she was properly named, wasn’t a threat to anyone, not with a bullet in her leg.
Alex raced back to Skip. “I’m going to call an ambulance. I’m glad you were here.”
“I had to make up for the night before, didn’t I? When I heard Thornton got away, I had to believe there was more going on than we knew about.”
Elise raced over to Alex, and after he assured her that he was unharmed, he asked her to call for an ambulance. Skip was starting to sag, so Alex took the gun from his hand and supported the man with his own weight.
“It’s a lucky thing her car wouldn’t start,” Alex said. Skip managed a smile. “Luck had nothing to do with it. I pulled off all of her spark plug wires.”
“How did you know she was dangerous?” Alex asked.
“Before she came into the inn, I saw her check the gun in her handbag. I would have rushed in if there’d been any trouble inside, but I thought the safest way to play it was to wait out here and see what happened.”
“I’m glad you were around,” Alex said.
They heard the ambulance right after hearing the police siren.
“That’s music to my ears,” Skip said. “All those years on the force and I never even got shot at, then this happens. I think I’ll let Armstrong handle Elkton Falls after all. I’m retiring for good this time.”
The big man stayed on his feet until the EMS folks made him lie down on the gurney. A second ambulance was called for Blanche Cliff. There was no way they were going to make the ex-cop and the killer ride side by side.
Alex and Armstrong approached Blanche as she lay on the ground. Elise joined them a minute later. After the sheriff read Blanche her rights, he said, “You really hold a grudge, don’t you? I can’t believe you waited all that time to kill your ex-husband.”
“You idiot, you have no idea what happened.”
“So why don’t you tell me.”
Blanche said, “It was Cliff’s idea from the start. He was looking for one big score so he could retire in style. I told him he was an idiot for selling that gold mine idea, but he wouldn’t listen to me. That wasn’t going to be enough for him, so he cooked up the robbery, too. I had the fake emerald made, and we were going to swap it out just before Reston Shay came to get it. I was supposed to tap Cliff hard enough to raise a welt, so it would look like he got taken by surprise.”
“But you decided not to share, so you used the letter opener instead.”
“He got exactly what he deserved,” Blanche said.
“So where’s the emerald?” Armstrong asked. “You know we’re going to find it sooner or later.”
“Good luck. It’s hidden pretty well.”
Armstrong laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re good at finding things. And if we don’t, I’ve got a feeling there’s an insurance man with a three-million-dollar reason to figure out what you did with it.”
The second ambulance came and treated the woman’s s leg before loading her in the back bay.
Armstrong said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll ride along with you’all.”
After they were gone, Alex said, “It’s hard to believe all this heartache stemmed from one man’s greed.”
Elise said, “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but he harvested what he sowed, didn’t he?”
“Let’s go inside. We’ve got guests expecting us.”
Elise said, “Before we go in, there’s something we need to talk about.”
Alex asked, �
�Is it about us?”
“It is,” Elise said solemnly. “I’m ready to answer your question.”
Alex found himself holding his breath in anticipation as he waited for his fate to be decided.
“Go ahead, I’m ready.”
Elise said, “Alex, you’ve been the best friend I’ve ever had, and the thought of losing what we have right now is more than I can take.”
He started to say something, but she held up one hand. “Please, just hear me out.”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“I love Hatteras West almost as much as you do, and the thought of being forced to leave because something has broken between us is unbearable. And let’s face it; my track record with relationships isn’t all that sterling. I’m sorry, but I know this is true about me. All the signs point to us staying friends. There’s just too much to risk losing.”
Alex felt his heart explode in his chest, but he fought to keep from showing his devastation. He knew on one level that what she said was true, all of it; it still didn’t make it any easier to accept.
Elise took a deep breath, then added, “That said, if you’re willing to risk everything, then so am I.”
It took him a second to realize that he’d just heard what she said. “Excuse me?”
She laughed slightly. “I said I’d love to pursue a relationship with you, starting right now.”
Alex said, “Are you sure?”
“Oh, Alex, I think we’ve talked this to death. Let’s just take a chance.”
And then she kissed him.
If you enjoyed the Lighthouse Inn mysteries, try the Candlemaking mysteries by Tim Myers
At Wick’s End
By Tim Myers
Prologue
Belle Black realized she had to be careful when she confronted the murderer about to visit her candle shop, At Wick’s End. To think that someone she knew was a killer made her blood freeze, and Belle was beginning to have second thoughts about her plan. Should she have asked for help, secured a witness to what she was about to do, or should she have done the sensible thing and called the sheriff’s department so they could deal with this themselves? No, they never would’ve believed her anyway. And what if she was wrong? The whole town would hear about it and think she was going senile. She’d just handle this like she’d handled every other problem at her building complex, River’s Edge, perched on the banks of the Gunpowder River in the North Carolina Mountains. Belle felt the burning of her righteous indignation flare up at the thought of what had happened almost under her nose. She’d call the sheriff once she had the satisfaction of hearing the killer admit to the litany of sins she was about to unveil. There would be time enough for a formal confession to the police after that.
As the front door of her shop opened, the telltale chime announced that her visitor had finally arrived.
“So I was right,” she said as her suspect stepped out of the shadows to face her. “You murdered that poor man and then stole from him.” The calm tone of her voice did nothing to reveal the hammering in her chest.
“I was under the distinct impression that you had more than a guess when you asked me to come here. You don’t have proof of anything, do you?” There was no heat in the words, an absence of any emotion at all. Surprisingly, that chilled Belle’s heart more than a stormy confrontation.
With firm resolve, Belle said, “I’m not guessing. I’ve got evidence.”
“I can’t imagine what you think you have.”
Belle said, “How about one of the diamonds from the robbery?”
That earned a startled look from the accused. She continued, “You must have dropped it before you could hide them all, because you missed one. Aren’t you worried about fingerprints?” She saw the killer’s gaze dart around the candle shop, so she hastily added, “You’ll never find where I’ve hidden it. It’s safe right where it is.” Was it, though? Had she been too clever, setting this confrontation up without any backup support? It was time to end this before something bad happened.
Belle said sternly, “Turn yourself in. Please. They’ll go easier on you if you take responsibility for what you’ve done. It’s the only way out for you.”
“I can think of another,” the voice said, spoken again with no emotion at all. “I’ll find the diamond without your help.”
As the killer stepped forward, Belle realized too late that she’d put too much faith in her belief that all of mankind was basically good, that there was no inherent evil, and that anyone would do the right thing, given the chance.
It was the last mistake she ever made.
After the meddling old lady was dead, the scene was easily set in the storeroom to look like an accident. There were, after all, many ways a neck could be broken.
Most likely Belle wouldn’t have kept the errant diamond in her shop; there were too many people in and out of At Wick’s End every day. No, the evidence had to in her apartment upstairs. There was a key to her place behind the door in the candle shop office; it was the worst kept secret at River’s Edge. And now it was time to recover the only thing that could link the crime with the killer.
Chapter 1
“I’m sorry to say that I have some bad news for you.”
I choked the telephone in my hand and tried to hide my impatience. “What other kind of news do lawyers ever have? And I told you before, my name’s Harrison.”
After we’d gone through the introductions and pleasantries, I’d waited for the real reason this man was calling me. I had a few leads to follow up in my sales territory, and times were lean at the moment. Okay, who was I trying to kid? I was broke because I was not entirely enamored with the prospect of peddling computers that weren’t nearly as efficient or modern as our brochures proclaimed. I just couldn’t bring myself to sell an inferior product to an unsuspecting public. It was time to try my hand at something else, a fact I’d realized some time ago. No job ever seemed to capture my interest long enough for me to get comfortable with it, and sales was turning out to be no different from hardware store clerk, copier repairman, dance instructor or house sitter.
And now I had a lawyer on the line. This just wasn’t turning out to be my decade.
“Err, Harrison, I’m sorry to say that your aunt Belle Black has passed on.”
“Great-aunt,” I corrected automatically as I felt a sudden twist in my gut. That’s exactly what Belle had been to me as I’d grown up, the greatest great-aunt a kid could wish for. She was the one who slipped me candy bars and folded fives on the side, the one who stood up for me when no one else would. It was always Belle’s place I retreated to when I ran away from home.
And now she was gone.
I asked, “What happened? Was it her heart?” It suddenly hit me that I had no idea how old Belle really was. She’d seemed ancient to me as a kid, but it was a funny fact that middle age kept getting later and later in my mind as I approached it. I was on the left side of thirty, though just barely. Belle had to be creeping up on eighty, if she wasn’t already there.
The attorney said, “No, I’m afraid it was an accident.”
“Just don’t tell me it happened in a car,” I said. I’d lost both my parents on my twenty-first birthday to a drunk driver, the last birthday I ever celebrated or acknowledged.
“No, she fell off a ladder at her candlemaking shop.”
I couldn’t believe it. “What was she doing on a ladder at her age? No, never mind that, nobody has to tell me how stubborn she was.” Though we’d lived just a few hours apart, I hadn’t made any real effort to keep up with Belle since I’d been on my own. Even when I’d moved to Red Creek six months ago, a bustling little town just twenty minutes away, it hadn’t increased the time we spent together. Belle and I stuck to our old habits. Once or twice a year we’d have lunch together, but otherwise we both led our own lives.
And now I regretted every opportunity I’d passed up over the years to see her.
“Mr. Black, there are important matter
s that need to be discussed immediately. Can you come by my office in an hour?”
Suddenly following up those sales leads wasn’t all that important. “Just tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”
After I hung up the telephone, I stared at a photograph on the small desk tucked into one corner of my cramped apartment. It was of Belle and me together taken twenty years before, my hand firmly in hers as we walked across a footbridge at the park.
And I felt the lightness of her touch all over again.
I decided to take a shower before keeping the appointment. Even as the spray washed away my tears as I mourned for her, I wished it could do something about scouring the heavy sadness in my heart.
The attorney, Lucas Young, turned out to be nothing like his voice. I’d imagined a tall lanky fellow with ruffled black hair when we’d talked on the telephone. Instead, what I found was a portly little man with a hairline receding faster than a snowman melting in the spring. At least the wisps of remaining hair still had a dark hue, so I hadn’t been completely wrong.
“Harrison, again, please accepts my condolences.”
“Thanks,” I said as I took a seat across from his desk. I’d managed to pull myself together after an extended shower that had drained the last of the hot water from my tank. Drops took care of the redness in my eyes, but there was nothing that could disguise the sudden weariness that had overcome me. “What’s so urgent? Do I need to make the arrangements for the funeral?”
“No, no,” he waved a hand in the air as he studied the papers in front of him. “Your aunt, great-aunt,” he corrected himself immediately, “took care of all that herself. She didn’t want a fuss. The cremation’s already taken place, and there will be no service of any kind, per her orders. I’m afraid she was most emphatic about that point”
“When did she die?” I asked.
“Sometime late Sunday evening. I’m afraid she wasn’t discovered until Monday morning.”
